


Red and Black

by PeroxidePirate



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-02
Updated: 2009-12-02
Packaged: 2017-10-04 02:27:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeroxidePirate/pseuds/PeroxidePirate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drusilla, on one of her better days. Buffy, not so much. All vampires hate the slayer... but only one hates Buffy for stealing her boyfriend. Twice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red and Black

  
  
  
**Entry tags:** |   
[btvs](http://peroxidepirate.livejournal.com/tag/btvs), [buffy](http://peroxidepirate.livejournal.com/tag/buffy), [drusilla](http://peroxidepirate.livejournal.com/tag/drusilla), [femslash](http://peroxidepirate.livejournal.com/tag/femslash), [season 6](http://peroxidepirate.livejournal.com/tag/season+6)  
  
---|---  
  
_ **Red and Black** _

**Title: **Red and Black  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Fandom: **Buffy the Vampire Slayer  
**Disclaimer:** These characters and their universe are not owned by me.  
**Characters:** Buffy, Drusilla  
**Word count:** 1200  
**Summary:** Drusilla, on one of her better days. Buffy, not so much. All vampires hate the slayer... but only one hates Buffy for stealing her boyfriend. Twice.

 

_"Why do you always take what's mine?"_

The voice is female, and filled with loathing, but that's as much as Buffy can remember. Every night for seven nights she has the same dream. There's a fight, her opponent a whirl of black clothing and dark hair, punctuated by an obscenely tight red top. They kick and punch and spin, and eventually, Buffy is on her back in the dirt, with the other woman's strong hands around her throat, her face still obscured by her hair.

Then she speaks for the first and only time, her voice so twisted with hate that it barely sounds human. _"Why do you always take what's mine?"  
_  
Buffy wakes up just before she would lose consciousness.

 

She places a transatlantic phone call, but neither Giles nor Willow can offer a specific interpretation. "Just be careful," Giles says, his worry obvious even from this far away, and she can practically hear him cleaning his glasses.

The eighth night is hot, the temperature holding steadily above 90, and Buffy is jumpy and tense, feeling like her skin is too tight. She checks and rechecks her weaponry, though it's too hot for a jacket or even a shirt with sleeves, so she has to carry it all in a duffle bag -- something that always makes her nervous. She tucks a couple of stakes into the back of her waistband and heads out, leaving Dawn at home with Xander.

She's not at all surprised to find a lithe, dark haired figure standing alone in Sunnydale's biggest cemetery. The woman is dressed in red and black, with her back turned, and Buffy cuts right to the chase. She calls out through the night, "What did I take that's yours?"

Drusilla turns around, smiling that terrifying crazy smile. "Hello, Slayer."

"Oh." Buffy drops her duffle bag, pulling a stake from her belt. "I thought you'd be Faith, actually. But you'll do."

Dru shakes her head, advancing slowly. "Oh, no. She takes what's yours -- or you believe she does. But you, dearie, take what's mine. You took my _tribe._ And I hate you twice as much as you've ever thought of hating her."

Buffy rolls her eyes. "Maybe if you weren't such a ho, your boyfriends wouldn't--" She lunges forward, aiming for the vampire's heart.

"What does that make you, if you're snacking on my leftovers?" Dru blocks, easily, and follows up with a kick.

Buffy skips back, vaulting over a headstone. "If you don't want them anymore, why do you hate me?"

Dru advances, arms outstretched. "I don't want them how you've made them, Slayer."

Buffy punches, landing a blow on Dru's chin. "I didn't curse Angel--"

Dru grabs her wrist, throwing her over one hip. "You did the second time, or your little witch did."

"Leave her out of this!" Buffy jumps up, throwing the stake in an attempt to spear the vampire.

Dru blocks the stake with a high kick, then smacks her foot into Buffy's thigh. "Fine. You had my Angel, and you gave him back to me, and you took him away again."

"And now I've lost him, too. Happy?" She responds with a high kick of her own. "And as for Spike, please, take him. He's obviously more like your kind--"

Dru blocks the kick. "He's not. I saw it, sweetie, in my dreams. He's like Angel now, a weak sorry human who won't even _die_. Consumed by guilt, unable to eat or play." She pushes Buffy, hard, making her trip over a headstone. "And it's all. your. doing. All. your. fault."

Buffy's on the ground now, Dru above her, and it's so much like the dream, Buffy starts to panic. Her nails dig in the dirt, looking for anything she can use as a weapon, trying to get free.

"You took my Darla, too," Dru says, voice still dripping rage. "You and Angel destroyed her. I've no one left to play with." Her hands come around Buffy's throat. _"Why do you always take what's mine?"_

This is it, then. Buffy's about to die for the third and final time, at the hands of an insane female vampire who's jealous because she and Buffy have ex-boyfriends in common. She doesn't like it, not at all, but she's prepared. She expects to have the life choked out of her, or have her throat slit with those deadly nails, or have teeth puncture her neck and drain all her blood.

She's not prepared for a kiss.

Dru's hands stay around her throat, but they just rest there, loosely. Her mouth fastens over Buffy's, tongue forcing her lips open, eyes closed with pleasure.

Surprise paralyzes Buffy for a few seconds -- and, astonishingly, it's good. Cool mouth, smooth skin, skillful tongue... she kisses back, automatically. Loses herself in the here-and-now for a while. Everything about this reminds her of the other vampires she's kissed...

And _that _thought brings her to her senses. She **_hates_** Drusilla. Anger gives her strength, and she gets her hands free. She pushes the vampire off, biting down on her tongue at the same time, then spitting to get the blood out of her mouth.

"Gross!" She scrambles to her feet, quickly getting another stake into her hand, even as she backs up. "You gave me nightmares for a week, brought me here, told me lies about Spike, all so you could _make out with me!?"_

Drusilla licks her lips. "I want to see what you're like. What you taste like. Why they want you."

"I can't imagine what they ever saw in you!"

Dru's eyes glitter, and she smiles. "We're not so different, dearie. You. Me. My Darla, your Faith. We're strong. We can take anything we want... but you and I want the same thing. And that's a problem."

She closes the distance between them, and too late, Buffy remembers what Dracula told her: drink a little of a vampire's blood, and you might find yourself held in thrall. She must have swallowed some of Dru's blood; although she wants to fight, she doesn't.

She just stands there as the vampire kisses her once more. Then Drusilla pulls away to whisper in her ear, "You've taken three of mine."

Buffy finds her voice. "You killed Kendra."

Dru smiles coldly. "That means I owe you two." Without warning, she vamps out, punches Buffy in the stomach, and as the slayer collapses against her, she sinks her fangs into Buffy's chest, just above the low neckline of her tank top.

She stops drinking before Buffy loses consciousness, and lets her fall to the ground. Buffy can feel about half a dozen new bruises as she lands on the concrete, in addition to the huge one on her stomach. The blow was enough to make her nausous, blood loss makes her dizzy, and she almost wishes she would lose consciousness.

Drusilla laughs. "We've tasted each other, now, dearie. I'll collect on my debt. I promise."

"I can hardly wait," Buffy croaks.

Dru sneers at her, kicks her once in the ribs, and walks away.

Lying on the ground, Buffy watches her go. Right before she passes out, she mutters, "She is _such_ a skeezy ho."


End file.
